if we turn aside to view
the reality, we see that the persons who were thus described, with the
exception of a small and useless class, are utter rogues.

The point which has to be considered, is the origin of this corruption
in nature. Every one will admit that the philosopher, in our description
of him, is a rare being. But what numberless causes tend to destroy
these rare beings! There is no good thing which may not be a cause of
evil--health, wealth, strength, rank, and the virtues themselves,
when placed under unfavourable circumstances. For as in the animal or
vegetable world the strongest seeds most need the accompaniment of good
air and soil, so the best of human characters turn out the worst when
they fall upon an unsuitable soil; whereas weak natures hardly ever
do any considerable good or harm; they are not the stuff out of which
either great criminals or great heroes are made. The philosopher follows
the same analogy: he is either the best or the worst of all men. Some
persons say that the Sophists are the corrupters of youth; but is not
public opinion the real Sophist who is everywhere present--in those very
persons, in the assembly, in the courts, in the camp, in the applauses
and hisses of the theatre re-echoed by the surrounding hills? Will not
a young man's heart leap amid these discordant sounds? and will any
education save him from being carried away by the torrent? Nor is this
all. For if he will not yield to opinion, there follows the gentle
compulsion of exile or death. What principle of rival Sophists or
anybody else can overcome in such an unequal contest? Characters there
may be more than human, who are exceptions--God may save a man, but not
his own strength. Further, I would have you consider that the hireling
Sophist only gives back to the world their own opinions; he is the
keeper of the monster, who knows how to flatter or anger him, and
observes the meaning of his inarticulate grunts. Good is what pleases
him, evil what he dislikes; truth and beauty are determined only by
the taste of the brute. Such is the Sophist's wisdom, and such is the
condition of those who make public opinion the test of truth, whether in
art or in morals. The curse is laid upon them of being and doing what
it approves, and when they attempt first principles the failure is
ludicrous. Think of all this and ask yourself whether the world is more
likely to be a believer in the unity of the idea, or in the multiplicity